


smoke and mirrors

by BansheeLydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, Ficlet, Musician Erica, Singer Lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 17:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4530504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BansheeLydia/pseuds/BansheeLydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written for the teen wolf femslash bingo. </p>
<p>Erica and Lydia are in rival bands in the Battle of the Bands.  Unfortunately for Erica, she's head over heels in love with her enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	smoke and mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> kirasmalydia.tumblr.com/tagged/teen wolf femslash bingo

“We. Are going. To kick. Your. _Ass_.”

Erica raised an eyebrow. She had a good six inches on Lydia, but thanks to the redhead’s heels, they were pressed almost nose to nose as Lydia glared at her. Erica could hear the faint bass of her band starting up for practice without her, but here in the closet, they were in their own little bubble.

“I don’t think so, princess.”

A little indignant growl escaped Lydia. “Do _not_ call me princess!”

Erica hated Lydia. She hated how arrogant she was. She hated the husky, gorgeous quality to her singing voice. She hated how determined she was to destroy Erica and her band. She definitely hated how fucking _cute_ she was and how she always managed to show off the right amount of leg between her boots and the hem of her skirt, driving Erica absolutely crazy.

“You’re not going to win the battle,” she said, determinedly not looking at Lydia’s lips. Except looking into her eyes was probably even worse. They were full of anger and Erica’s stomach swooped. _Fuck_.

“We are,” Lydia replied. “We’re going to destroy you.”

“Are not.”

“Are _too_.”

Erica wasn’t sure who made the first move, but their lips slammed together in a hard, demanding kiss, Lydia’s hands tangling in Erica’s curls. Erica gripped her hips hard, pressing her up against the closet door, licking into her mouth and relishing the little moan Lydia gave in response.

Erica pushed her thigh between Lydia’s and pushed up slightly, pinning her against the door as she pushed at the shorter girl’s shirt.

“We . Are _not_ ,” Lydia said between breathless kisses, tugging sharply on Erica’s hair, “Having sex – in a – _closet_.”

Her hips told a different story, rocking, and Erica nipped at her lower lip, eliciting a soft sound from Lydia.

“ _Erica_?”

They broke apart sharply; Lydia quickly pushed her shirt down and smoothed her hair back into place. Erica stayed silent as Britta, their drummer, walked past, calling for her. When her voice faded, she turned her attention back to Lydia as the redhead opened a compact mirror and fixed her lipgloss like nothing had even happened.

She arched an eyebrow when she caught Erica’s gaze on her. “Better go practice,” she smirked. “You’re going to need it.”

“I am so looking forward to seeing your face when we win,” Erica shot back. “It’ll be almost orgasmic.”

Without missing a beat, Lydia replied breezily, “Aw, honey, I’d be faking. I’m used to that with you.”

And with that, she left the closet. Erica watched her walk away, curls bouncing on her shoulders. She didn’t look back.

God, Erica loved her.

*

By the time Erica made it to the music room, she was twenty minutes late for practice. Britta raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything in front of the others. Erica picked up her guitar, Matt’s soft voice filled the room, and she lost herself in the music.

It wasn’t until after practice was over that Britta cornered her while the others packed up, sitting down on one of the speakers.

“What are you doing?”

Erica snapped her guitar case closed. “Nothing, I just got held behind in class, that’s all.”

“Your lipstick’s all smudged.”

She lifted a hand to her mouth, wiping away the red lipstick smudged there. Erica cleared her throat and rubbed the lipstick off on her jeans. She could make an excuse, say she’d been making out with someone else, but she knew Britta wouldn’t believe her; the other girl had been there from day one witnessing the rivalry between her and Lydia. Hell, it had been Britta herself who had pointed out the unbearable sexual tension. But that didn’t mean Britta would understand. She’d accuse Erica of betraying the band –

“I mean, ignoring the fact that you’re fraternizing with the enemy -,” _Bingo_. “Lydia’s going to mess you up, you realize that, right?”

Erica shook her head. “We’re just fooling about. I don’t even like her.”

“Sure you don’t,” Britta shook her head. “Erica, you’re practically writing _Mrs Erica Martin_ on all of your notebooks. You _like_ her. And Lydia...she’s a bitch, okay? She chews people up and spits them back out. For _fun_. She’s got a 4.0 GPA, she hangs around with Jackson and Allison, she acts like she’s the queen of this place. You don’t fit into her little world. She’s just going to hurt you.”

Erica gazed at her for a moment. Maybe Britta was right; she used to be friends with Lydia, after all, until some falling out had ended up with Britta hanging out with them instead and absolutely hating Lydia’s guts. 

It wasn’t exactly news that Lydia could be a bitch. She did walk around like she was the queen. But she was beautiful and smart; she had the most genuine laugh Erica had ever seen. She’d seen Lydia’s small, dimpled smile, the one she shared with very few people. She’d seen Lydia dressed in sweatpants with her hair a mess after staying up late to study. She’d seen Lydia panicking over tests and pigging out on pizza. She was there when Jackson broke Lydia’s heart and she had witnessed every expression of misery on that beautiful face, before she’d covered it up, before she’d moved on. Maybe Lydia did hurt people. Maybe she did break hearts.

But that wasn’t all she was.

Britta sighed, standing. “Just...be careful, yeah? You deserve better than that.”

“Yeah, thanks, Brit.”

She watched the other girl leave and sighed, tipping her head back. Maybe Britta was right, but Erica never was one to run from the things that hurt her.

*

“I need to study.”

Erica pressed a kiss to Lydia’s neck, marking a spot that already proudly displayed a bruise. Lydia was still pliant and sated, yet her mind was already on school and work and studying. It drove Erica crazy.

“Just...stay,” she murmured. “Just for a bit.”

Lydia snorted. “Are you asking me to cuddle?”

_Yes_. “It’s almost midnight. You need sleep, not work.”

“Cute, coming from the girl coasting on a music scholarship.”

Erica flinched at that, pulling away and rolling onto her back. “God, you’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

Lydia sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of Erica’s bed. The blonde watched her pull on her panties and camisole.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I know.”

Erica didn’t say anything more, just watched as Lydia dressed and left without a word. 

The battle of the bands was on Saturday. She and the band had been practising all week; Matt was determined to beat Lydia and her band. Part of her was still full of that fiery determination to beat Lydia, to wipe the arrogance off her face. 

Part of her just wished Lydia would stay for more than ten minutes after sex.

*

“You look good.”

Erica didn’t look away from the band still on stage. The crowd were going wild for them and Erica had to admit, they were good; the steady pulse of the bass and the low, hushed tones of the male singer worked well together. For the first time, Erica realized that her competition might not just be Lydia and her band. 

When they finished their song and the crowd applauded, Erica gulped down the rest of her drink and turned to look at Lydia.

“So do you,” she said.

Lydia looked wild, untamed. Like smoke, drifting through Erica’s fingers. She smirked under Erica’s gaze, stepping closer, and pressed a quick, hard kiss to her lips.

“Ready to get your ass kicked?” 

“Bring it on, princess.”

Lydia grinned and kissed her again before disappearing. Erica watched her go, then moved further into the crowd to watch her band play. 

Lydia was always mesmerizing when she sang. Hips moving slightly, hair wild around her shoulders, smoky, wistful voice flowing perfectly with the music. Erica watched, admired the way her skin shone in the stage lights, how her lips caressed each word, and she knew there was no going back.

She was in love. She didn’t think she could ever again love anybody but Lydia Martin.

The song finished and Erica vaguely heard the applause around her, but then Britta’s hand was curling around her wrist, tugging her away and backstage. 

“We’re on in five minutes and you’re too busy eye screwing Lydia freaking Martin,” she muttered, getting their gear ready. 

Erica blinked, snapping to the present. “Back off, Britta.”

“Whatever,” the older girl shook her head as she shoved Erica’s guitar case towards her. “When this is done and we’ve won, _we’re_ done. I don’t want you in the band when you’re too busy with Lydia to even give a damn.” 

Erica’s hands clenched into fists and she opened her mouth to retort, but then a tech peered into the room, directing them to get ready.

They set up, cold silence between Erica and Britta, and the others didn’t seem to notice, too keyed up about the performance. 

“Good luck,” a soft voice said from the side of the stage.

Erica glanced over, meeting Lydia’s gaze. There was no vitriol or teasing in the words; she genuinely meant them. A small smile tugged at her lips in response. “Thanks.”

Lydia disappeared and Erica tried to put her mind back to the music. She wasn’t with it during the performance; she played the music, went through the motions, and the crowd reacted just as they wanted them to, but she just wanted to go and find Lydia and finally tell her how she felt. Maybe Lydia would laugh in her face, maybe she’d tell Erica to get lost, but Erica didn’t care. She’d take heartbreak over bottling this up for the rest of her life.

As soon as they were done, she shoved her guitar in its case and hurried out into the crowd, trying to find the redhead. She spotted her by the bar.

“Lydia!”

She turned, tilting her head as Erica approached. “Hey,” she said, hands finding Erica’s hips. “You were pretty hot up there.”

“Britta said you’re a bitch.” Which wasn’t what she’d intended to say at _all_ and Erica regretted it the second the words left her mouth.

Lydia blinked, but she didn’t look mad. “And what do you think?”

“I love you.”

Lydia tipped her head back just enough to kiss her. “Britta and I fell out because she stole my boyfriend. Maybe I’m a bitch, but I’ve never stolen someone’s partner.” She slid a hand into Erica’s curls, kissing her again, softer. “I love you too.”

(It turned out neither of them won; some band with a lame name won the title, but Erica and Lydia were too busy making out in Erica’s car to really care.)

**Author's Note:**

> kirasmalydia.tumblr.com - come say hello? :)


End file.
